Chapter Warning: There is use of firearms in this chapter. There is also light mention of blood and violence, but nothing gratuitously graphic.
Chapter 4: The Battle in the Museum
The announcement of the mythical orbs of Sinnoh having been stolen was almost impossible to believe. Amongst the attendees, they exchanged whispers of fear, incredulity, and disapproval to one another. The situation threatened to quickly ignite the scheduled press conference into turmoil, and Kate, acknowledging how terribly awry this evening had turned out now, did her best to maintain a controlled exterior. If things weren't under control now, there would be no telling what would happen next.
"Please, everyone," Kate spoke with as much command as she could summon. "We have just notified the local authorities and they are on their way as I speak. We—we can't ascertain exactly what happened in the storage room. We are still discussing with the security on duty of surveilling the rooms— I am asking for your patience and cooperation in this manner. Thank you for your understanding."
Still, the crowd murmured to one another about the matter at hand. They were not to be appeased very easily, it seemed.
As Cynthia listened to Kate, an observation from earlier tugged at her: there had been a lack of security earlier at the lobby, with only one guard standing in the corner as she had walked out in an attempt to find Charon. At this realization, questions suddenly tossed Cynthia into disarray. Why had there been a lack of security guards just as Charon was nowhere to be found? Had they all been redirected elsewhere, like the storage rooms, to protect any remaining artifacts at risk of robbery? Or, more disturbingly, what if Charon was somehow involved, or even behind, this apparent theft?
"Cynthia," Lucian said, his voice concerned. He noticed that the blonde had furrowed her brows in concentration.
It took a couple of seconds for Cynthia to register that she had been spoken to. "Yes?" Cynthia said after swiftly turning her head to see her colleague.
Cynthia could see the doubt in Lucian's eyes. Intuitively, she knew Lucian, being the psychic he was, had read her mind. "… Do you know something?" he asked quietly.
Cynthia did not answer his question immediately. She shifted her head away from her colleague, glancing quickly around her to see if anyone was looking at them in particular. When she saw she was safe, she leaned closer to Lucian and said in a lowered voice, "I don't know. I was just thinking about what happened when I had left earlier…"
"I take it that event is involved with…?" Lucian indicated at Kate with the nod of his head about the current circumstance.
Cynthia took a breath and then nodded slightly. "Perhaps."
Stella, who had been watching Cynthia and Lucian interact, blinked. "Is there something I'm missing?" she asked.
Cynthia glanced over to her little sister. "Nothing that concerns you," the blonde replied. Then, she turned back to Lucian. "I'm going over to see exactly what happened."
Before Lucian could say anything further, Cynthia stood and left her companions, making her way across the main hall amidst the guests sitting at their tables. With her mind brimming with questions, it was difficult not to be able to do anything about it— she had to get up and see for herself what was happening.
As Cynthia neared Kate, the museum director had stepped off the podium and was talking with someone whom she looked to be the director of the security. It had crossed her mind to ask Kate for more details concerning the matter of the theft, that is, if Kate felt that she was at liberty to discuss it. But now, Cynthia had second thoughts: would her interest in the theft of the orbs really be relevant to those in charge of this circumstance? And to what extent could she talk about her encounter with Charon earlier this evening? A brief wave of paranoia surged in her that Charon really had been involved in the theft somehow— but no, she couldn't jump to any conclusions that that was truly the case. She had no knowledge of the truth, and that guess was an unfounded suspicion at best. There was no real evidence to link him to the theft… Well, not yet, at least. Moreover, it was unfair to pin the uninvited scientist alone on the theft. It could have been just a sincere coincidence that he had gone right as it was announced that the mythical orbs were stolen.
With these thoughts continuously brewing in the blonde, she observed Kate pulling out her cellphone and began hurriedly exchanging dialogue with the other person on the line. With disorder on the rise, Cynthia began doubting that her experience and thoughts on the matter would surely bring any contribution. Watching Kate alone, now worried and strained over the theft, was perhaps enough to make Cynthia decide it altogether prudent not to discuss the matters with her anymore.
"Oh, Cynthia," Steven's voice sounded curiously from behind her. She turned her head to the side, finding Steven walking up to her. Like everyone else, there was a troubled expression on his face. "What brings you here?"
Cynthia looked back to Kate, who seemed buried even more into her cellphone. Turning back to Steven, she replied, "I was going to discuss with Kate about… Well, perhaps it isn't very pertinent in the end."
Steven cocked an eyebrow, wondering why Cynthia hadn't finished her first sentence. He took a step closer to her and bent down slowly to her ear, unembarrassed at the closeness of his face to her neck.
"Do you mean to say you might have knowledge regarding this…?" Steven suggested quietly. He picked up the warm and sensual fragrance of her perfume: there was a light floral scent, followed by an intoxicating combination of vanilla and cedarwood musk. It was a subtle but assertive perfume choice, very much like Cynthia's character, he surmised.
Cynthia almost tightened again at Steven's close proximity to her. Instead, she breathed a composed sigh and tilted her head to Steven's ear, saying evenly, "It may be relevant, but I am not making any definitive statements. Besides, with Kate anxious the way she is now, I doubt she'll have any time to talk with anyone."
As soon as Cynthia finished speaking, a thunderous crash sounded from the far distance of the hallway to the right of the main hall. First came a succession of ear-piercing quivers of shattering glass, followed by the shouts of men, their voices echoing across the halls. All guests shifted their heads to the source of the din, disturbed. Immediately, the director of the security turned to his right-hand man, instructed an order to him, and dashed away to the scene of the commotion. In turn, the right-hand man rushed to the podium and tapped on the microphone to test it.
"Everyone, please remain calm and seated at your tables," he commanded. "We are in lockdown mode. Security is working at the moment to control the events. You are all in the midst of a crime scene— do not, I repeat, do not leave your places. We are in lockdown mode."
Another wave of fear and incredulity flooded amongst the attendees, many of whom shook their heads in disapproval and continued their murmurs. Meanwhile, several more security guards entered the main hall, blocking all hallway entrances to the main chamber.
Just then, another raucous clatter of metal and glass rang out in the same hallway, followed by a suspicious thud against a hard surface.
"Go, Luxio!" a man bellowed from down the hallway. The sound of a pokéball opened, followed by the battle-ready snarl of the electric lion.
At this, Cynthia and Steven's eyes met, alarm stabbing the two champions. A battle? Happening at the museum? Now? Of all times?!
They were in intuitive agreement, Steven and Cynthia nodding to each other once in affirmation. A battle now was a serious matter, and in a museum even more so. Too many factors were at risk: the ancient relics and artifacts of history, no doubt costing up to millions of pokédollars, and with nearly everyone trapped in the main hall— an unregulated pokémon battle was asking for insurmountable trouble.
It didn't matter that another security guard had told them to remain seated— the champions pushed their way past several banquet tables, ignoring the exclaims of those whom they had accidentally shoved themselves against. Though the hallway was initially blocked by security guards, they relented, though reluctantly, upon the sight of the two champions, recognizing their authority.
Their view down the hallway was dimly lit, a few of the bright studio lights having been fractured from the earlier scrimmage. Shards of glass and metal littered the floor, glinting in the remaining lights. Most of the museum's display pillars were still intact, though a couple had fallen to the floor, their artifacts strewn about. In the distance, the obscured figure of the director of security stood in darkness facing the left to another corridor, commanding the luxio in battle.
"Use Thunder Shock!"
The luxio obeyed the command, roaring out once before leaping away out of sight. The sound of another pokémon, assumedly the opponent, yelped in pain before retaliating with a brisk whip of air, particles of sand whirling into a swift tornado.
"Sand Tomb!" the opposing voice shouted across the halls. The pokémon cried out in affirmation, summoning the attack to the luxio. In turn, the electric lion squealed, the ground-type move bearing its super-effectiveness on the pokémon.
Steven glanced hurriedly at Cynthia. "Do you have your team with you?" he asked.
"Not my entire team," Cynthia answered, and then looked at Steven, askance. "You intend to battle now?"
"We have no choice if it comes to that," Steven asserted. "Kate didn't mention this earlier, but the thieves may still be here in the building!"
Cynthia blinked, her heart pulsing with adrenaline. Before she could reply, another thud rang out in the distance, this time from the end of the hallway coming from the right. The director of security turned backward to glance at the new commotion. He seemed to hesitate, fear instantly prickling him as he realized another opponent was directly behind him.
"I need backup!" he shouted in Steven and Cynthia's direction. "We have two more here!"
Steven gave one last glance at Cynthia before hurrying off, as if telling her with his eyes, We need to hurry!
Before Cynthia knew it, Steven was off running down the hallway, a hand reaching to the back for his pokébelt, fingers clutching the pokémon to best handle the situation. "Claydol, I need your help, please!" The pokéball opened, an iridescent white light gushing forth and manifesting the clay figurine pokémon. It released an earthy rumble, its clay limbs clacking against one another as the psychic energy bound the pokémon together.
"Dear God," Cynthia breathed. She took one second — and no more — to gather herself, chasing after Steven to the assailants, one hand clutching the folds of her dress above her ankles.
Ahead of her, the Sand Tomb gained its intensity, the luxio trapped inside its tornado and yowling in pain. The director of security was at a loss, his pokémon unable to break free of the storm. He shouted for his luxio to try to break free, but the attempt was useless: within seconds, the lion flew backward to the director, the sandstorm dissipating, and both the pokémon and its trainer had fallen back to the floor, defeated.
Alarmed at the sudden turn of events, Cynthia nearly stopped in her tracks. Disbelief threatened to paralyze her, but no, she could not let it get to her— the danger was real and present, and she could not waste another second.
"Glaceon!" Cynthia called out, opening her clutch and releasing the ice fox from its pokéball. "Use Ice Beam to their opponent!"
As she emerged, the ice fox let out a chilling cry, its mewls ringing in the air with crystalline peals. She sprinted ahead of Cynthia, obeying her trainer. However, as it neared the end of the corridor, a look of confusion took over the fox: there was no opponent to be seen. Glaceon glanced back at Cynthia, waiting for further instructions from her trainer.
Steven managed to catch a quick glimpse behind him in the midst of his battling, shouting to Cynthia, "He left! You need to chase him!"
Ah, damn! Cynthia thought. "Got it!"
"Find them, Glaceon! Follow the trail of their scent!" Cynthia commanded. Glaceon mewled again, confidence brewing in the fox as she leaped rapidly down the hall.
The blonde picked up her pace, wishing her outfit were more practical at the moment to give chase to the attackers. No matter, at least she could run in heels— years of wearing them had made her accustomed to even the most demanding of stilettos.
As Cynthia ran following after her glaceon, corridor after corridor, several lights around the museum began flickering on and off. Thoughts whizzed by her mind as they struggled to stay on: was it possible that the thieves had broken into the electrical rooms of the museum as well? The theft of these orbs was a high-stakes heist— if they were truly responsible for this, then they were well-prepared for the task at hand.
The lights continued to spasm, finally giving way to darkness as Cynthia saw her glaceon skid ahead into a large chamber in the distance. As the darkness flooded across the museum, the ice fox yowled for her trainer, the fur on her back sticking up in icy needles. She had ceased her running, pausing in the center of what appeared to be a wide and tall wing of the museum.
"Glaceon!" Cynthia called out, catching up to her. The fox turned back, confirming that her trainer had indeed arrived. At this, the glaceon swiveled her head around away from her trainer, baring her fangs as she hissed.
"What is it?" Cynthia asked, catching her breath. Quickly, the blonde examined her surroundings. If her memory served her correctly, they were now in a broad wing where figurines of several legendary pokémon were made from prehistoric peoples of the Sinnoh region. The smaller figurines of the collection were encased in glass atop rectangular columns spread in even intervals, the larger ones merely barricaded by stanchions. At each of the far ends of the wing, bright red exit signs glowed, presumably in use for emergencies only.
The prospect of having to battle in a room like this required extra care. For the first time, Cynthia felt true panic course through her. Out on the battlefield in a stadium, she could conduct herself with composure and confidence. But a battle in a museum — with invaluable relics and treasures for the world to admire at risk of destruction— was not a spectacle to witness. No, this was a danger: one wrong move and fragments of history could be destroyed forever.
Cynthia glanced at Glaceon once more, still on high guard. That meant the enemy was here, all right, but what could be done in this precarious setting was hard to determine.
The Sinnoh champion reached into her clutch once more, her fingers deftly finding the familiar mark that distinguished the next pokémon she was looking for. "Lucario," Cynthia said, keeping her voice poised as she lifted the pokéball to her lips. "Use Flash Cannon to light the room, please."
Upon pressing the pokéball open, the bipedal wolf let out a slight growl, indicating his readiness as his physical body materialized. Between his paws, a silvery light began to coalesce into a sphere, tendrils of the light twirling about. The lucario lifted his paws up, elevating the light high above to the high-vaulted ceiling. With the room fully visible, Cynthia swiftly did a once-over across the room, spotting several dark figures dressed in black, ski masks obscuring their faces. They neared their way towards the exit to her right, their footsteps having made minimal noise, and upon seeing the light of the Flash Cannon shine brightly on them, they hurried their pace, scrambling for the exit door. As the first forced open the exit door, an ear-splitting alarm rang out and menacing strobe lights flashed: the emergency system was activated.
No way! Cynthia gasped. There are three of them!
"Glaceon, Lucario, after them!" Cynthia ordered. Glaceon obliged willingly, but Lucario hesitated, his sensitive ears twitching as he detected another enemy behind them through the din.
"What is it now?" Cynthia looked over to her lucario. The wolf snarled, a low rumble emanating from his throat as he turned his back to his trainer.
Cynthia turned around, looking to see what her pokémon was glaring at. Her eyes widened in a combination of fear and surprise at the person before her: it was the odd man from earlier, the one who had twice tried to come up to her while she was with Steven and Lucian. A smirk plastered his face as he tossed a pokéball nonchalantly in his hand.
"Well, now, if it isn't Miss Champion," the man taunted with a yell, pausing his tossing his pokéball in the air. "Now you can't pretend you didn't notice me from earlier."
Cynthia said nothing, wary of her next move. Was it possible that he— no, he couldn't, despite what could be called her rejecting his dance from earlier— what is this? He's a guest here! Is he involved?
Before any more thoughts could stir in her, the man pressed his pokéball, calling out his pokémon. "Machoke! Cross Chop the Lucario!"
"Lucario! Dodge it! Watch out for the statues!" Cynthia commanded. She had to think— and fast. At this rate, being caught in the battle, the three suspicious figures had likely escaped the museum.
The wolf was quick, leaping up in the air just as the machoke delivered the blow. The attack hit the ground instead, leaving the glossy tiles cracked with chips splattering about. Meanwhile, Lucario had landed elsewhere, his hind paws settling neatly between a set of columns.
"Psychic!" Cynthia shouted. The wolf obeyed, concentrating his target onto Machoke as he prepared the move.
"Avoid it and Cross Chop once more!" The man attempted to retaliate, but Cynthia's lucario was faster, the Psychic's energy having hurtled across the space and darting precisely into the machoke's head. The pokémon screeched out in return, the psychic power weakening its endurance as it struggled to hold its head with both hands.
"Keep at it, Lucario!" Cynthia continued. "Make sure he weakens!"
Lucario let out an affirmative roar, understanding that his mistress was leaving him autonomous for the moment. Though the three thieves in black had already escaped, he knew that Cynthia wanted to catch any last chance of them having fled the museum's premises.
"Glaceon, let's go!" Cynthia ordered, turning back from the battle. Her glaceon immediately bounded ahead to the exit sign, the blonde following behind.
"Where do you think you're going?!" the man from behind yelled out. "You don't get to go anywhere!"
Cynthia ignored the man, sure that he was taken care of by her lucario.
"Machoke! Get a grip of yourself!" she heard him order.
The blonde continued running across the wing, avoiding the many columns of artifacts and statues. Sounds of battle echoed across the room, the air reverberating with Lucario's psychic pings and the machoke's screeches.
The man uttered profanity under his breath, seeing that his machoke was no match for the Sinnoh champion's lucario. Recalling his fighting-type pokémon, he switched out for his dustox instead. While the Lucario's Psychic attack against his bug-poison-type pokémon would still prove super-effective, the moth fared better with its speed as a bug. It could dodge more efficiently than the bulky machoke.
"Use Toxic on Lucario!" he ordered. The moth fluttered vigorously, swiftly locating the lucario.
The attack just barely missed Lucario; he dodged away in the nick of time, almost losing his balance in the process as he struggled to find appropriate footing. He hoped to make minimal damage, knowing the artifacts to be valuable. He took a brief glance behind him: Cynthia was nearing the exit door.
"Dustox, keep Lucario occupied!" the man shouted, taking a few steps away from the battle now. Moving his hand behind the coat of his dinner jacket, he reached for the small and discreet loaded weapon that no one had miraculously caught throughout the evening — not even security as he entered — and fingered it, confident now that he could use it.
The dustox trilled, sensing and stealing the opportunity left open by the lucario; he had only fleetingly drifted his focus away from the battle on hand. Faster than Lucario now, the moth flew across the space and cast large bubbles of lustrous violet onto the bipedal wolf. Unable to avoid the attack, the lucario gritted his teeth as Toxic set into his body. Before he could prepare himself further, the moth aimed directly at his sight, vibrating a Bug Buzz against him.
The man ran past the battling pokémon, sure that Lucario would be occupied. Not even the champion's beloved aura pokémon would or even could detect what would happen next, despite their famed psychic perceptions. No, no one would save the Sinnoh champion from what he would do next—
Pulling the weapon from his belt, his dominant hand on the grip of the pistol, he lifted it to sight, searching for any sign of the Sinnoh champion. Her blond hair was hard to miss, glaring brightly under the flaring strobe lights even amidst the columns of encased relics.
Just then, a swift gleam of blond flashed before his eyes, the color stark against the wall nearing the exit. Knowing that if he shot now, he would miss the target and instead aimed his pistol at the exit. Pressing his finger to the trigger, the sound of the disengaged bullet reverberated in the air, the bullet penetrating across the wing into the exit door. The air froze, all eyes on the man with the gun in his hand.
"You shouldn't leave," the man shouted as a warning. "I am under orders that you cannot leave!"
Cynthia tumbled down, tripping over her heels as she ducked behind a column. Her heart battered against her chest at the sudden turn of events, almost jumping to her throat at the peril before her. Glaceon followed with her trainer, hurriedly scampering into her arms as the blonde clutched to her. Her mind spun, the blood coursing in her body with shock— had she heard that correctly? Was that really the sound of a pistol? How could she manage this? With the emergency lights and alarms and din of the pokémon battle, she couldn't possibly gauge her situation with any clarity!
From behind, she heard Lucario roar in anger. He must have been battling the enemy's pokémon, unable to intercept with the gun-wielding man. In a fit of rage, Lucario jumped away from Dustox and prepared an Aura Sphere in the man's direction, leaping across columns, the pressure of his hind paws compressing the glass beneath him. Dustox was equally as fast: managing to impede the Aura Sphere, it flew in front of its master, crying out as it absorbed the attack. Lucario's attack was stronger, however. Though the Dustox burned at the aural energy, collapsing fully to the ground, the attack charged into the walls, pieces of it crumbling down from the impact. Heavier chunks of it attacked the man, hitting his head and shoulders as he stood gaping at the damage.
Alarmed at the rampaging wolf, the man swung his pistol into the lucario's direction and aimed a shot at him. Lucario leaped back swiftly in time before the bullet could hit him, his premonitory senses now throttled in full capacity. Comprehension brewed in the man, and aware that further attempts at shooting the lucario would prove useless, he summoned out his machoke once more. "Go full out against the Lucario!" Machoke materialized once more, understanding he was permitted to wield his full physical power against the opposing pokémon. The machoke faced Lucario head-on, this time seemingly stronger than before.
"Lucario!" Cynthia shouted, knowing fully well she could give her current location to the shooter. Still, she felt it was necessary to speak out: she knew her dear Lucario's temperament could be ill-mannered whenever he witnessed injustice at hand. "Whatever you do, do not provoke him! Protect yourself first!"
At the sound of his mistress's voice, Lucario tempered slightly. Machoke robbed this opportunity to send a Cross Chop into him, the bipedal wolf crashing down on museum columns behind him. Shards of glass splattered across the floor, Lucario momentarily dizzied at the momentum of the attack.
"Glaceon," Cynthia whispered urgently to the fox, gripping the squirming pokémon tightly in her arms. "I need you to listen carefully: no matter what happens next, you will not attack the man either! Avoid confrontation with him, I don't want you getting shot, do you understand?"
The ice fox ceased her squirming, looking intently at her mistress. Making a quiet mewl of understanding, she nodded, relenting to her mistress's request.
Cynthia paused, permitting herself to take in a breath of air. She needed to calculate her next step as efficiently as she could despite her circumstances. The shooter, armed and ready to press the trigger, remained somewhere to her left, she knew, probably nearing the exit now. Did he want to kill her? Or maybe he just needed to keep her here, away from the thieves she had spotted earlier? Certainly, that bullet to the door was a warning, but she had to heed attention regardless. She could surrender, yielding her hands in the air, and he might still shoot her anyway.
Behind Cynthia, she heard Lucario roar out again. He had to have been fighting with the Machoke, and perhaps the Dustox as well, if it had not been knocked out yet— but she could not risk looking up, not yet. Lucario could handle the stress, she was sure.
"Glaceon," Cynthia said suddenly, an idea abruptly springing to mind having seized her. "Build a barricade to the exit door using your Ice Beam! Quickly!"
The glaceon seemed to hesitate slightly, wondering what Cynthia was up to. Nonetheless, she agreed, pouncing out of the blonde's arms and assessing her surroundings: she would barricade as high as she could, hoping that it would help deter the shooter away from her. Inhaling in a sharp breath, ice crystals emerged in her open mouth, crystal beams stemming outward as it aimed across the exit.
I have to get up at some point! Cynthia thought. If I don't, he's going to find me!
Sighing in agitation, the Sinnoh champion counted to three and furtively poked her head upward the column, scanning her surroundings through the encased glass. As she suspected, the man was lumbering his way quite leisurely towards the exit door. Amidst the flashing of the strobe lights, she saw trickles of blood along his temples, crossing over to his cheeks. It had to have been from Lucario's attack earlier, no doubt about it. Still, the way the man walked with ease and confidence disturbed her: it must have been because of the weapon in his hand he felt as self-assured as he did.
"You can run, Miss Champion," the man began his taunting once more, his voice grating against the emergency alarms. "But you can never hide!"
Cynthia poked her head a little higher up, hoping to see what another choice she could make in the midst of the danger. What could she — no, should she — do now? The three thieves from earlier were well past the chase, even with Glaceon's acute sense of smell. This man had kept her here long enough— there was no choice but to subdue his pokémon and the man himself.
Perhaps she could send out her last pokémon on hand — Spiritomb — and she knew Double Team, proving it an effective move to stir confusion in the room against the opponent. At the same time, doubt nagged at her: having already sent out two of her pokémon, they were already in danger at the crazed man with the pistol. He was not trigger-happy, at least he didn't seem to be, but there was no way of predicting when or why he would use it next.
Determination gripped Cynthia. Lucario was already busy with the Machoke, the two fighting-types wrestling one another in physical combat, and Glaceon still hid in the shadows as she built the barrier. Reaching into her clutch once more, she pulled out her final pokéball, murmuring to it as she placed it near her lips, "Spiritomb, Double Team, please!"
As she pressed open the pokéball, the iridescent whiteness streamed out once more and opened a whirl of deep amethyst haze, circular flecks of tourmaline green shimmering in the whirl. Spiritomb was swift, replicating herself across the room. She seemed to delight in the mayhem: wicked cackles echoed in the air, the collective body of 108 spirits vocalizing their intimidations.
"Show yourself!" the man shouted. "Miss Champion, you can't fool me with your pokémon!"
Cynthia stood up now, the blur of her Spiritomb obscuring her view of the man. Feeling that she had regained a sense of self-possession now, she commanded, "Glaceon! Leap through Spiritomb's illusions and trap the man to the floor with Ice Beam!"
She heard her glaceon intone a mewl in approval, leaping away from the exit door and bolting through the clouds of Spiritomb's replicas. Glaceon soon made out the man's presence, her eyes narrowing to his feet against the floor. Without warning, she hissed out an Ice Beam to his shoes, the streams of ice jabbing into his body as he yelped out in pain.
"Two can play at the game!" the man gritted through his teeth. Struggling to ignore the pain at his feet, he lifted his pistol and aimed at the source of the Ice Beam in the shadows, shooting once into the darkness. It did not matter if he had missed or not: he needed it to buy time for himself. There was another scuffle, the glaceon most likely having bounded away to safety.
"Mismagius, go!" the man called out, releasing his third and final pokémon out into the battle. "Find the Spiritomb and finish it!"
An apparition formed in a purple mist, its distinctive witch-hat protruding forth in its formation. Its ghostly incantations met the Spiritomb's cackling, unafraid of the opponent before it. With no command from its trainer, it began a shower of lightly-powered Shadow Balls, twirling itself around as the spheres spread across the room. One by one, several of Spiritomb's illusions dissolved, the attacks chasing the Spiritomb as she tried to hide herself.
"Keep up your Double Team, Spiritomb!" Cynthia shouted in return. "Use Hypnosis when you find the right chance!"
This prompted cackling in assurance from the pokémon. However, the moment was too late: in a perfect split second, Cynthia's location was already revealed to the man before her as Spiritomb's illusions had dispersed, and seeing that the champion was briefly distracted, the man lifted his pistol, preparing his gun as his index finger pushed against the trigger. The bullet pierced through the air, the sound thundering in the room even among the guttural heaves between Lucario and Machoke, the spectral resonating of the ghost pokémon, and Glaceon's cry of shock at the violent burst of the weapon, realizing that she would not be able to protect her mistress in time—
But the bullet did not hit Cynthia. Instead, another pokémon flew in, shoving Cynthia to the floor, the bullet hitting a glass encasement on a column instead. Cynthia gasped out sharply at the sudden intrusion: was there another enemy in the room she hadn't noticed? Or was it…?
"That's quite enough of this foolishness!" an authoritative and unfamiliar bass boomed over the din across the wing. "Surrender now or prepare to face the consequences!"
Author's Note: My apologies to anyone who has been patiently waiting for the release of this chapter. I had a bit of a writer's block and needed to take my mind off of it for a couple of weeks in order for the story to advance. The use of firearms in this chapter required more thoughtful handling, as I didn't want to use it for the sake of making a "darkfic," so to speak. Adding firearms in the Pokémon world is a significant choice on the part of the fanfiction writer, and it ought to be handled with sensitivity. While I am not sure if I am successful at incorporating the weapon in the story, I do think it adds another layer that certainly invites speculation about the nature of pokémon battling (read: animal fighting) as opposed to pure violence in and of itself. More of this interaction between manmade weapons and pokémon battling will be fleshed out in future chapters.
On a minor note, I gave the name "Stella" to Cynthia's little sister to denote a celestial-themed naming scheme for the sisters. Cynthia as a name derives its origins from the Greek goddess Artemis, one of its several meanings being tied to the moon. Stella, meanwhile, simply means "star." This seemed to be a nifty choice in trying to create Cynthia's sister as a character, so I ran with it.
Finally, I would like to mention that while I sincerely wish I could update on a daily basis, there are a couple of reasons precluding me from actually doing this. First, I am a stickler for quality in my writing; while I don't profess that my writing is flawless (far from it, actually), I do try to maintain a certain kind of quality before I publish the chapters online. It's interesting for me to write this particular fic since it tests my writing skills in ways that I haven't actually explored before, so I like to take my time writing, editing, and revising it as I feel necessary. Second, real-life circumstances take first priority in my life, so I give most of my time to those matters first. While I've picked up fanfiction writing as a hobby again, and I try to uphold a certain kind of self-discipline in writing it in order to finish the stories, I cannot make the promise that updates will happen on a timely basis— I can only promise they will be consistent, but intermittently so. Third, as I mentioned earlier above, I experienced a bit of a writer's block— and this takes time to unpack and work out. It involves planning, and lots of it, in order to keep the believability of the story. This also helps me to avoid plot holes, which inevitably ruin the credibility of the story. Having that said, however, I will try to publish one chapter per week or so, as it seems to be manageable enough given the other responsibilities I have in my life. At any rate, thank you for your support! I hope you enjoyed reading this intense chapter!